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Missing Time
This was created by Reverb. Please do not copy or take credit for any concepts, coding, writing or artwork. Please do not edit this page in any way. ---- Characters included are Freefall, Cacao, and Rebel. This story won first place. Chaos. The best word to describe Possibility’s marketplace, is chaos. The constant murmur of conversation, drowned out by shouts of anger or surprise, and clashes of metal or stone against the wooden counters of the booths echoed back off the adobe buildings and tiled square. “Fresh fish! Get your fish here!” A bang of some dragon knocking something over. “Best blades west of the five-tail river!” The zing of a blade sharpening. Great moons, I’m not gonna make it back to the barracks. Freefall ducked under the wing of a SeaWing, darting for the edge of the Square. Her claws ticked carefully against the tiles, and she spread her wings to cover the last stretch. With the market behind her, she slowly spun a full circle, trying to orient herself. The buildings weren’t as high here as they were near the guards’ dormitory where she was supposed to be right now. The majority she could see had thatched roofs, and now that she was away from the chaos, she could hear the faintest sound of flowing water. She followed the sound. Captain is gonna kill me. The buildings got smaller and smaller the further she went, losing the sharp corners and monochrome adobe. They looked more haphazard, like mounds of mud, varying in shades from pale brown to a bloody red. At least, she thought that was mud. Freefall speed up as the soothing sound of the river grew louder, until she was racing the dirt paths, whooping and laughing. Memories of leading the noble dragonets on raids through the Sky Palace made her smile bigger, and she closed her eyes. The dirt was hard packed under her talons, step by step. Until it wasn’t. She skidded to a stop, yelping as she spread her wings for balance. The path had been replaced with a wooden dock, protruding out into the dark river. Her snout dipped into the water and her claws dug into the wood as she leaned back with a yelp. “Great moons, that’s cold!” Freefall exclaimed, to no one in particular. She sat down heavily, glancing around. The sun was setting behind her, the blood-red clouds reflected in the murky, ruching water. It looked much deeper then it had sounded, with white edges were it folded under itself, like foam on the mouth of a rabid dog. She gulped, and looked up at the sky. A few stark silhouettes of dragons flying home were all she could see, and she sighed, hanging her head. Something creaked, and Freefall jumped in surprise, standing and spinning. Dark shadows flitted between the buildings, hiding from the sun as it stained the sky with crimson. She saw nothing, looking around wildly. She peered closely at the buildings, her heart thudding. She tucked her wings closer, backing up. Her talon slipped off the wood, and she let out a scream as cold water met her scales. She dug her claws into the wood, attempting to haul herself out. Where were you? Oh nowhere, just psyching myself out and jumping in the river, no big deal. “Help! Hey!” She yelled, her hind claws scrambling against the posts of the dock. She pressed against it, trying to heave herself out. Something creaked again, and she held still, her claws dug painfully into the rotten wood. It creaked again and she let out a scream as the plank gave way, the post snapping in half and the current snapping her up. Her scream was cut off, white and black and blue clouding her vision. The rush of water was almost as loud as the pounding of her blood in her ears. She blindly scrambled for something to grip onto, but her talons only met smooth river stones, coated in thick layers of algae and weeds. Something cracked loudly against her skull as the river turned suddenly, and everything went dark. “Hey. Hello?” “Are you sure she’s not dead?” “I know what a dead dragon looks like, Cacao.” “Sure you do.” Her head swam, and her ears rang as she began to realized she wasn’t underwater. She blinked away the dark haziness that seemed to cloud her mind and glanced around. The river was just a shallow stretch over smoothed pebbles, clear as glass. The trees leaned over it, long branches waving quietly in the morning breeze. She gently touched the side of her head and winced as she felt blood and pain shot through her head. In front of her were two dragons, a SkyWing and a RainWing. The SkyWing was tall, with long limbs and perfectly folded wings. A white marking was tattooed into the left side of her neck, angular and twisting, and she had a blue bandanna tied around her neck. The RainWing was shorter, and had no wings. She had a tattoo on her neck too, except her’s was more like a river delta. “See, I told you.” The SkyWing said, poking the RainWing with her red wing. The brown RainWing just rolled her eyes and hissed under her breath. “What’s your name?” The RainWing asked, poking her with one long, silver claw. It was significantly colder then it should have been. “M-me?” She asked. “I don’t-“ She trailed off. “That’s a nasty gash.” The SkyWing said, reaching forward and gently touching the side over her head. She pulled away with another wince. The SkyWing untied the blue bandana from around her neck and pressed it to her head. She took it gratefully. “I’m Rebel, and this is Cacao.” The SkyWing said, gesturing to the RainWing, who was inspecting her claws. They looked like long, sharpened metal blades, glinting in the light. Rebel offered a talon, helping her out of the water. “Come on, Drought wanted us back at the caves days ago.” “Ignore her.” Rebel told her. “You don’t remember your name? I’m gonna call you Amnesia for now, is that okay? Oh, that looks like it needs a healer.” Amnesia nodded, then furrowed her brow. The two dragons lead her through the forest, toward what she assumed was the healer. Something about these two dragons felt… off. The strange markings, the exchanged glances, like they knew something she didn’t. A small glimmer in the undergrowth caught Amnesia’s eye, and she got just a seconds’s glance before it to was gone. It was a nail, old and rusted, with a scrap of equally old wood. Something a dock might be made of. Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Completed) Category:Genre (Short Story) Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon)